


Don't Break

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst and Feels, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Sexual Content, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: It's hard when it's so fragile.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 8
Kudos: 178





	Don't Break

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. Uh. When was this written? *checks* Oh. Only like, two years and one month ago. Wow, feels like an eternity. I don't even remember what I was going for, but I saw it and was like... "This is just about complete." And now here it is. Have fun. Even though this isn't a super fun fic.

There are few things he’s sure about, but he’s sure he loves Komaeda. He’s also sure that Komaeda is one of the most unstable, potentially dangerous people he’s met—and that’s more to his own detriment rather than others. Komaeda might cause an accident every now and then due to his freak luck, but comparing mild and minor marks and occasional scrapes he’d sustain could be so easily ignored in favor of Komaeda muttering about the darker things that could happen—how much worse the state of injuries could escalate from inconsequential to fatal—and how he could go on and on, describing a handful of possible routes that could result in a painful death from simply one scenario in a number of seconds. He could stop him sure, but the damage then would be done, and Komaeda would see so very effortlessly how easily the white-haired youth terrified him.

And then he’d smile, sad and sweet, and ask him with that adoring, eager to please tone, “Why don’t we break up, Hinata-kun?”

* * *

If he were being honest, however, he might not be much better, considering where they often end up when Komaeda suggests they end their relationship. This time it’s actually in his room, on his bed behind the curtains and under the sheets. Two thin, thin covers with a thin, thin body pinned under him.

Komaeda’s spindly fingers are digging into his back, legs hitched around his hips, his face twisted up, and he makes the weakest noises. Squeaky, high-pitched, almost like the bed underneath but with a breathy voice so that he knows it’s him. He can make Komaeda yelp too, if he so wishes, by biting his neck and shoulders, all the places where he’s so sensitive.

There are an assortment of marks on that pale skin, not all of them his, but he kisses each one indiscriminately. It’s an indirect form of acceptance, though he wonders at times if Komaeda’s aware, even as he strokes them adoringly in a way that was unmistakable. But Komaeda could be narrow-minded—dense at times, though he shouldn’t talk about that—and perhaps even now Komaeda simply sees their lovemaking as a release of frustration and lust.

“Hinata-kun,” he’s pleading—gasping between breaths but pleading so much as he’s pinned down, as Hinata buries himself in this frail, frightening body, and he’s begging, “Hinata-kun, _Hinata-kun_ —”

“You want this?” Hinata asks, and it’s enough to get Komaeda to still for the most part. He’s still pushing back, he still pushes back when he thrusts, but the way he stares up at him is wide-eyed and blank, almost unresponsive. It’s a pang in his chest with the realization that he can’t understand Komaeda when he’s like this—it’s why he has to make _sure_ that, “Komaeda, you want this, _don’t you_?”

Komaeda’s blankness makes him hesitate, stunting his motion and it’s enough to ruin the mood, to dissipate the heat and make him go soft. Komaeda does blink when he has to pull out, and he trembles if only for a moment as fingers slipping from Hinata’s back as the brunet lies down mutely beside him. Komaeda gives him a quizzical stare, but Hinata just buries his face in the sheets and he shakes as his hand gropes for Komaeda’s own.

“Hinata-kun...” Komaeda’s voice—soft and almost whimsical in a way he wondered if this was a dream. A dream dressed as a nightmare, especially in the way his hand is squeezed in return, and he can tell by the shift that Komaeda is curled towards him now. His other hand grips Hinata, almost like a thin, glass cage. Easy to crack—set up in a way that he couldn’t help but wonder if getting it to crack was the _purpose_. “Hinata-kun, you can continue.”

Hinata nearly flinches but stays so unmoving he might not even be breathing. Komaeda goes on, “It’s fine, you know. I don’t mind if it’s you—don’t you want to...?”

“No.” Louder than he intended, but stern and to the point. Hinata shifts to that he can face Komaeda properly and grips that hand hard enough that he can see the brief twist in those far too innocent features. He ends up grimacing and burying his face back so that he can’t see anymore, letting out a hard, heavy sigh. “No... I...”

“Why don’t we break up?”

Hinata’s grip tightens to the point that hand might be broken instead.

* * *

Komaeda trails after him when they’re together, unable to drift too far behind with their fingers so tautly entwined. Though even when their hands are separated, Komaeda still stays uncomfortably near, sometimes serenely humming melodies Hinata vaguely remember being classical.

Their relationship isn’t one either of them displays proudly in public. They still use formal family names with one another and outside of hand-holding, any other shows of affection are nil. Really, it often felt like they hardly were a couple a lot of the time. Sometimes, Hinata wondered how they looked to people that didn’t know them. Even if they held hands, would people know? If so, what would they _think_?

Hinata knows on his own that he’s someone easy to overlook, far too plain to pay any significant attention to. Komaeda, for his outwardly unassuming persona, is far more striking, much more prone to attracting a curious eye especially to his appearance. With wild white hair that looked brittle, skin pale enough that purple veins were visible on thin, skeletal hands... His unsettling calm despite all that, giving him an almost unearthly presence...

Perhaps that’s just biased thinking, but it’s hard to not think that the only reason why he receives second glances is because of Komaeda. Then again, for all he knows, no one really cares enough about him or Komaeda to even think twice about them, much less bother to theorize.

But the people that know the two of them personally—they’re another story.

Souda had figured it out first—acted strange around them for ages before Hinata confronted him about it and he confessed his suspicions about the two of them. Once it was confirmed, everyone else knew about them before the end of the week rolled around. They’d only been questioned about it once or twice—normally by the friends that had to have things confirmed directly, such as Kuzuryuu, Mioda, and Sonia.

They were accepted, but with an air of unease, with second, wary glances in Komaeda’s direction. No one says anything, but Hinata still _hears_ the way they’re questioning them and this decision in the unspoken atmosphere and can only press himself closer to Komaeda, or at least hold that bony hand tighter within his own.

Komaeda never seemed affected, of course, and his calm smile didn’t shift even when that hand of his was getting carelessly crushed. He laughed like he usually did in their conversations, making his usual commentary on situations—even when it was unneeded and unwanted—and aside from the proximity between him and Hinata, it was almost like in those moments, nothing had changed from the time Komaeda first drew near.

It should be a relief, but Hinata still feels so on edge that with each simple, easy quirk of his boyfriend’s lips and each light laugh and line of dialogue, it’s as though Hinata is cracking, more and more.

* * *

He can’t stop tucking white strands behind a delicate ear. Komaeda does smile at him the first couple of times, but after a while, he stops reacting almost as though Hinata’s careful fingers, tracing the shell of his ear, were little more than the wind. When Hinata presses a kiss to the point between his ear and jaw, Komaeda hardly twitches.

“Hinata-kun, they’re gonna be back soon...” It almost sounds like a whine, but Komaeda twists towards him, and that makes kissing that parted mouth, catching the curve of that skull in his hand, so much easier. Komaeda’s much quieter when the kiss deepens, when Hinata runs his tongue of that plush lower lip.

When he pulls back, he’s already panting a bit. Komaeda’s flushed—it’s the only change in his expression from before. It’s...deflating to notice, as pretty Hinata finds that blush. It’s still a lovely contrast of pick against the other’s pallor—and it’s all the harder for him to look at.

“You know that I...like you, right, Komaeda?” It’s almost difficult to say it—his voice is barely above a whisper, low and droning in his own ears and he resents himself all the more for it. “I really, really like you.”

He resents himself all for more for sounding _resentful_. Komaeda might start to think he’s the one being resented here because of it—and that’s the last thing either of them need, especially Komaeda.

But Komaeda just smiles as simply as he usually does, fondly giggling, remarking, “I know.”

Somehow, that makes it marginally better. More okay. _This is okay._

“Hinata-kun, Komaeda-kun.”

Someone is calling. That tender moment is one that Hinata has to hide away, especially when Komaeda spins on his heel to respond to the call.

“Ah, coming, coming! Hinata-kun, let’s go!”

And all that there’s to do is follow.


End file.
